


First Breath After Coma

by Jynxed_Laptop



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Gotta make my own content like some kind of barbarian, Hector tries but fails, It started as something funny then turned into this, Joja is the source of much evil, Joja sucks and I stand by that, Multi, Redeeming Morris, Ships will be tagged as they happen, i didn't mean to write this, yeah I'm going there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jynxed_Laptop/pseuds/Jynxed_Laptop
Summary: It's not often you're handed second chances...When Morris finds himself fired after the failure of the Pelican Town store, he's not the only one handed the chance to make up for past mistakes and transgressions. If only he could figure out what to do now that he's no longer under Joja's influence...





	1. Chapter 1: Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I'm just making a few changes, and a few things to note before we start:  
> I'm making the seasons and therefore the years a bit longer.  
> Morris's family is from the equivalent of Italy in the Stardew valley world. Italics are for when they're speaking its national language.  
> This is mostly from Morris's pov so I've translated it already.
> 
> This is the first thing I've written in a long time, so I hope it's good and that you all like it!

Chapter one: Coming Home

It was the first day of fall and it was pouring outside the blue windowed Jojacorp offices. A massive downpour the likes of which you’d be liable to see cats and dogs coming down with the drops. It was into this rain a man stepped out of the building. 

He was on the short side with black hair that was quickly soaked through. He stood for a moment, his hazel eyes going to the sky as his face kept a careful blankness. His glasses catching raindrops as he tried to think. In his hand was a pink slip of paper, also soaked through, writing now nearly illegible except for the clearly stamped ‘fired’. He closed his eyes for a moment as his tightening grip further wrecked the paper in his hands. His jaw tightened as he continued to stand there in the rain. His mouth finally opened almost as if to shout but his utterance was lost to the thunder as it crackled through the air. 

As the door opened behind him, he started to walk. He didn’t turn around as the door closed again. He walked to the street and looked to see if a taxi was possibly coming his way. He just sighed as he saw that he had no such luck. 

‘Did you honestly think you deserve any luck today?’ A melancholy voice in his head started up. He quickly decided to ignore it as his feet took him down the street. As he came to a cafe’s overhang, he stepped under and reached into his pocket for his phone. He quickly navigated to the call screen and typed in a number he hoped still worked. He was honestly surprised he still remembered it after so long. He bit his lip as he finally pressed the dial button.

“Hello, Goman and sons tailoring. Hector speaking.” The professional baritone voice was both achingly familiar and sadly not at the same time.

“ _Big brother…_ ” His tongue tripped on the language he’d grown up with. He pushed up his glasses to rub at his suddenly watering eyes.

“M-Morris?” The shock was audible even over the phone. In the background he could hear another familiar voice chime up.

“ _Y-yes it’s me. I’m… I’m sorry._ ” He fought through the hitch in his voice. He also tried to ignore the cold that was seeping into him through his clothes. “ _I’m so sorry for everything._ ” 

“Morris, what’s wrong? Where are you?” There was no anger, only concern.

“ _I-I’m at 40th and-and central. Th-the cafe there._ ” Morris answered softly. “ _I-I didn’t know who else to call. Everything-Everything just fell apart. I’m sorry, I’ll-i’ll let you go if you want me to and-and you can get back to the customers you probably have and I’ll just-just-_ ”

“Morris.” Hector’s firm voice cut through his rambling. “I’m coming to get you. Stay where you are.” His tone left no room for argument and what followed was a click.

Morris looked at his phone for a moment before carefully putting it in his pocket. He felt too drained to disobey his brother’s order, so he kept standing where he was; shivering in place and rubbing at his arms to keep warm. 

After what could’ve been anywhere from an hour to only thirty minutes, a car pulled up carefully to the curb by where he stood. Out got a tall young looking man of slightly tanned skin and similar hair color to his. His quickly soaked clothes were a white button-up shirt and black slacks. Morris recognized him instantly. 

“H-hector…” Morris started to say something but even he didn’t know what. He still found himself cut off as Hector came to usher him towards the vehicle.

Soon he found himself bundled into the passenger seat with Hector jogging around to the driver side. As he got in and pulled off the curb, Hector gently reminded him about seatbelts.

“R-right…” As Morris put it on he noticed that he still had the paper in his hands. He finally dropped it to the floorboard. He once again wiped at his face with his sleeves, only to notice that his concealer had washed off because of the shower outside. He couldn’t bring himself to care too much right then. He found himself slumping against the seat as he remembered why exactly he couldn’t bring himself to care about almost anything. It was then he realized that Hector had been talking this whole time.

“I asked, where do you want to go.” Hector seemed to be trying to keep his voice even. 

“H-home. I want to go home. Our-our home.” Morris rubbed at his arms again as his voice hitched. “I’m sorry for everything. I shouldn’t be imposing on you. I-I’ll try to think of-”

“Grandma is already making garlic bread.” Hector reached his arm over to gently clasp his little brother’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“B-but…” Morris wanted to argue. He had plenty to be sorry for. Four years of no contact. Leaving right after their father’s passing. The things he’d said in the fight directly prior. He did have some sorry’s that needed to be said but he also had no energy to argue that point with his brother. Not right then at least. So he just nodded and slumped back against the seat. He looked out the window and leaned his head against it. It wasn’t until his brother was tapping his shoulder that he even realized that he had fallen asleep.

“Come on Mory. Grandma wants to see you.” 

The old nickname made his heart clench in his chest. Morris closed his eyes and nodded as he got out of the car. The rain had not let up.

He recognized the building they were parked behind, with it’s chipping dark green paint and gold trim on the windows. The parking lot was empty except for their car, so it was a short walk to the back entrance and inside the building. In front of him was the door he knew would take him to the back room of the tailor shop. A place of too many memories for the moment. He was barely keeping it together as it was.

So to the right they went, down the hall to a staircase. As they ascended the creaking stairs, it was the singing they heard first. A strong but aged voice singing in a language they both knew, but a song they didn’t. Morris felt a weight of dread settle in his stomach. He stopped for a moment to breathe, finding that it was slowly becoming shakier and shakier. It was only when he heard his brother’s steps also stop that he spoke. 

“I’m so-sorry. I’m coming.” He forced his body to move, one step at a time.

“If you say sorry again, I’m making you help Grandma cook.” Hector’s tone was light, teasing. Again it felt familiar, like this was four years ago and he’d never left home. Morris’ breath felt even shakier.

They finally reached the top of the stairs and walked to the lone door; it’s numbers worn and the paint cracked and chipped. Hector took out his keyring and quickly unlocked it, practically dragging Morris inside. The layout of the entry way hadn’t changed a bit. Shoes to the left, coats to the right. Morris quietly removed the articles before following Hector forward. He didn’t mention that they had left his special hook on the wall. The one Papa had put in because of his shorter height. 

Hector quickly turned, pointing down a hallway to the left. “We left your room the way you liked it. Hopefully your clothes still fit.”

Morris went to follow instructions but stopped when he heard the oven door open. The smell of garlic bread spilled out of the tiny kitchen to fill the room. He was suddenly 6 and sitting watching cartoons with his brother while dinner was cooked. He was 16 again and making his father an important promise. He was suddenly 24 and calling his grandmother in tears, unsure of what he had done wrong to ruin the love of a lifetime. He was 25 and storming out of the house as he broke his promise. He was 29 and just now back in the same house after 4 years of no contact.

He heard rather than felt his knees hitting the floor, breaths horribly unsteady and hitching in his chest. Hector was by his side in a second, rubbing his back and hurriedly asking what was wrong. He heard footfalls from the kitchen and felt her hands on his shoulder, trying to turn him around. He bonelessly complied and turned on his knees to face her.

She was a small woman, his grandmother. Short with thick gray braided hair, tanned skin and his hazel eyes. She wore a pink dress with a paisley patterned apron. Her hands weren’t weak though and the rest of her felt the same. She certainly felt strong as she wrapped him in her arms and held him against her as if he was young again. It felt safe. He finally broke down, letting out a garbled sorry and just letting the sobs overtake him as he clung to her. He felt her fingers card through his hair was she held him.

It could’ve been hours or minutes that she stood with him, just letting him finally cry. Eventually though, he felt himself winding down, whether from exhaustion or from getting it all out of his system; he finally felt his arms slacken and let her go. She however did not let go of him. She continued to card her fingers in his hair and rubbed at his shoulder.

“ _Morris, I love you and I am happy to have you home._ ” She finally said after a few minutes. “ _Come eat, you are freezing and food will make you warm._ ” She gently helped him to his feet and led him to their small dining set.

If he had felt the need to run his fingers along the top of the table he would’ve found the many marks of both age and young children had left over the years. As it was he could see the tiny heart that held ‘M+T’ in it’s confines. He timidly looked up from it as his brother came from the kitchen with what he could only assume was dinner. He would’ve been silent if it weren’t for his grandmother holding his hand as she said grace. Then his brother asked the one question he had been dreading.

“So… Where have you been? We’ve -Ow!” Hector was cut off and the butter jumped as if someone with surprisingly strong legs had hit both his shins and the table. 

Morris thanked Yoba that his grandmother wasn’t angry with him as he tried to find his voice. His voice was soft as he finally answered. “I… Please don’t be mad. I was working for Jojacorp…” He felt eyes on him, so instead of meeting them he just stared at his plate. “I tried my best but after the store I was manager of went under, that was my final strike. I was fired today.” He pushed at some pasta that was on his plate. “I’m sorry, I know Papa hated them. I just couldn’t find anyone else hiring after…” He looked off to the side. “After I left the way I did.”

“Do you have an apartment? You know to go home to after this…” Hector looked as if he would want anything else but to know the answer. 

“Not anymore. I had to sell my apartment to move to the town where the store was getting underway. While I was there Joja supplied me with where I lived. Which… Which I now don’t have either.” Morris felt himself slumping in his chair.

His grandmother nodded as if making a decision neither of them were privy to. “ _You stay here then. Get back on your feet._ ”

Hector brightened up at her words. “Of course! After all your room is still here and there’s enough money coming in that I can hire you on part time!” 

“I-i don’t want to impose!” Morris found himself looking between them, both happy that they still wanted him and terrified of what would happen if he stayed. He didn’t want to drag them down with him.

“Mory, you’re family. It’s not you imposing on us if we want you home.” Hector sounded exasperated already. “And trust us we do want you here.” He reached over to hold onto Morris’ hand.

“ _You stay. We figure out where to go from here together._ ” His grandmother also reached over and gripped his other hand. 

Morris felt the tears going down his cheeks as he nodded, quickly giving in. He’d love nothing more than to reconnect with his family again. 

That night, after the dishes were done, he found himself being sent to bed. Once again he didn’t argue, as he gently shut the door and looked at his old room. It was neater than when he had left, missing the thread that would’ve been strewn about the desk and nightstand. But the gray and purple bedding was the same, the posters of famous clothing companies still hung on the wall and the dresser was still full of his old clothing. As he carefully sat himself down on the bed, he found himself staring out the window.

He couldn’t help but think back to the sky above Pelican Town. The clear night sky had been one of the few things he had allowed himself to enjoy when he had been employed by Joja. He hadn’t had much free time due to their strict protocols and timetables, so laying in his bed staring at the sky through his window was one of the few past-times that he had. Here in the city, he couldn’t count the stars or guess constellations. But he did have his family again. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths carefully, not wanting to have another crying fit. He then stepped towards the dresser and began the task of finding something to sleep in. He sighed with relief as he discovered he still fit in some old sweatpants and an old band t-shirt. With that settled he hung his suit on an old hanger to dry and carefully climbed into bed.

Morris wasn’t sure if it was how emotionally exhausting the day was or if it was the relief at finally being somewhere he was wanted, but for once his mind didn’t race. Instead it just sunk quietly to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 : A change of plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics mean the language that Grandma natively speaks and taught Morris and Hector.
> 
> Joja is not nice.
> 
> Potential warning about the anxiety attack in this chapter.

The morning came with little fanfare as it spread it’s light over Zuzu city. No fanfare was ever needed really. The city seemed as if morning itself was late with it’s lack of inactivity. The bustling metropolis was already awake as cars drove through the streets, honking at jaywalking pedestrians and at each other as they went. The sidewalks pulsed with people on their morning commutes. About the only quiet places were inside the various apartments of the city, many of which would lay abandoned until later that evening. But a few select ones remained occupied, such as the one above Goman & Sons tailoring. 

Morris blinked at his wall and tried to keep from springing out of bed as he laid there. He technically didn’t have anywhere to be, and if he remembered right they wouldn’t open till after breakfast which was always at seven sharp. So why was he up at six sharp and unable to go back to sleep. It wasn’t like he was cooking today. Morris blinked again, and began to move at the thought. 

‘Maybe I should cook. It would at least give me something to do.’ He swung his legs off the edge of the bed and quickly went to his dresser to look for an alternative to his still drying suit. He quickly found a white button up shirt and a pair of dress slacks. He breathed a sigh as he put them both on the bed. ‘Yoba, I hate wearing white but it seems like that’s all i used to own.’ As he got dressed, he was pleasantly surprised to find his socks dry. ‘At least I can start off on the right foot.’ 

He tried to quietly open his door, only for it to creak loudly with age. ‘And this is why I rarely snuck out.’ He stuck his head out and looked to see if anyone else was up, finding no one with his eyes and no sounds with his ears. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he stepped out from his room.

As he stepped into the living room, he saw Hector asleep in the same reclining chair that Papa used to use. For a moment he looked like their father almost exactly. Tall, strong and capable, sitting up and waiting for his foolish son to come home from the party with the wrong crowd he’d snuck out to.

Morris let his hands clench much the same way his heart did. He quickly turned his head and walked to the kitchen, avoiding the creaky boards along the way. The kitchen was as he remembered it. It was still bright, sunny, and yellow cracked paint covered the walls. He quietly checked the pantry and fridge to see what his cooking options were. After taking stock he decided that scrambled eggs with ham and cheese were in the cards for the morning. 

Morris quickly realized that his grandmother still ruled the kitchen, because everything was still where it used to be. He quickly diced the ham as the frying pan heated up. As he was cracking the eggs, his eyes slowly found their way to the window. It was a low one so he could properly see outside as he whisked the eggs, ranch and water together. The street thankfully looked like his memories said it should. As he added the cheese into the pan, he heard the old chair’s telltale creak as it’s occupant left it.

“ _I hope you like eggs with ham, cause that’s what I’m making._ ” Morris quietly called out to the living room, not wanting to wake his grandmother till breakfast was ready.

“ _I should’ve expected you to be up. How did you sleep?_ ” Hector carefully stepped into the kitchen and leaned on the doorframe, staring at Morris.

Deciding that hiding the truth was pointless, Morris was honest. “ _I slept surprisingly well. Normally my head won’t shut up when I try to sleep._ ” He flipped the eggs. “ _How have you been these past years? The business seems to be doing well._ ” Morris tried to keep his tone light.

“ _We’ve been doing alright. Grandma’s been helping with the shop at times, but it’s been mostly me doing the work._ ” Hector’s tone was surprisingly free of bitterness. “ _Things were a bit... harder after Papa passed, but we kept afloat._ ” 

Morris felt his shoulders slump even as he kept the eggs from burning. “ _I’m sorry. I… I know that I shouldn’t have fought with you. Papa and Grandma chose you as the new owner, and it was wrong of me to challenge their decision like that..._ ” ‘It was wrong of me to leave.’ His mind spoke what hung in the air between them.

Hector rubbed the back of his neck as he looked off to the side. “ _It certainly wasn’t easy. But we managed._ ” He turned back to look at his little brother. He seemed to be trying to choose his words carefully. “So… Joja huh? What was it like to work there?” 

Morris found himself freezing at the question, his hands shaking slightly. ‘A good Joja employee knows the answer is Great.’ His mind told him. Yelled at him even. But his mind forgot one crucial fact. “I’m an ex-joja employee…” He whispered under his breath.

Hector waited patiently for the answer to come.

“It-it was com- It was…” Morris fought for the right words. “It was… Not- _It-it was..._ ” His hands were shaking as he tried to turn down the heat for the food. He forgot what he was even making. He just knew it was done and he didn’t want it to burn because he couldn’t say one short word. He cognitively knew what he wanted to say. It just wouldn’t leave his mouth. ‘A good Joja employee always speaks well of Joja.’ His mind supplied. His hands were shaking and his bottom lip hurt and he didn’t know why. 

Morris finally felt soft weathered hands grip his, holding them steady. He knew those hands and he let them drag him away from the stove and out of the kitchen. He let himself be pushed into a chair and felt those hands start carding through his hair as an arm pulled him to a small chest. He heard someone far away tell him to breath and to count. He did his best to comply. But trying to breath and count at the same time left him coughing.

“ _In one, two, three. Out one, two, three._ ” An aged voice counted for him.

Morris focused on that voice. He breathed as it counted for him, finding it easier with each repeated pass. His hands started to calm as he focused on the feel of hands through his hair. Eventually he heard dishes clinking onto the table and he blinked as he felt fabric gently pull on his bottom lip. He felt his teeth clink together. He realized why his lip hurt as the handkerchief came away bloody. He realized it was Hector’s handkerchief. as he saw the H embroidered on it. 

He tried to mutter out an apology, but the aged voice, the one of his grandmother’s gently shushed him. “ _It is Hector who should apologize. He ask stupid question he was told not to ask._ ” 

“ _Is now really the time for blame?_ ” Hector’s voice sounded scared.

Morris wondered why his brother was scared as his breath continued to even out. He swallowed as he tried to sit up and look around. His grandmother’s arms stopped him though. “I-i think I’m okay now… Plea-please let me sit up.” He was released slowly, as if his grandmother was very reluctant to do so, but she allowed him to ease himself up. He looked around as he realized he was at the dining table and that the eggs were cold.

“Wasn’t I just cooking those?” He wondered aloud, almost missing the glance that was shared between Hector and their grandmother. “What? How-How long have we been sitting here?”

“ _Hector will go to go open the shop. Now._ ” Grandma’s tone left absolutely no room for argument.

“Yes Grandma.” Hector left his handkerchief on the table in his rush to get to the door. 

Morris was thoroughly confused as his grandmother moved a chair to sit next to him. He let her hold his hand in hers and rubbed a finger over one of her knuckles. “Why…”

“ _What did he ask? Be honest._ ” 

“He asked…” Morris swallowed. “All he asked was what working for Joja was like… Th-that’s all he asked.” ‘What did I say?’ He tried to figure out what he had answered, but his grandmother cut off the thoughts with a groan of exasperation.

“ _He was specifically told not to ask that._ ” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she muttered a few choice words. 

Morris found himself even more confused than he was before. “Why was he not supposed to ask that. I-i don’t understand.” 

“ _Morris… Do you know what often becomes of ex-Joja employees?_ ” Her tone and question were both blunt. 

“No? We… We weren’t allo- We were discouraged from keeping contact with them once they left.” Morris suddenly felt like he was 24 again and was being told his Papa wouldn’t make it out of the hospital this time.

“ _The city is a cruel place to them. Joja is everywhere here. Reminders of Joja are everywhere… If your brother asking a question did that to you, I fear what having to interact with actual employees would do to you._ ” She reached up to tuck some hair behind his ear as she waited for him to absorb her words. 

It did not take him long. “Oh Yoba… What will it do to me.” He asked himself softly. The only employees he knew of were cruel. Any weakness and you were picked off like a fly. He could only imagine what would happen if they found out where he lived… If they came into the shop while he was there…

“ _I will not let them hurt you._ ” Her voice was firm as her grip tightened on his hand. “ _But you need a place to heal. A place that will not wound you by existing around you._ ”

“I-I… I’m not hurt though.” He tried to purse his lips only to wince as the still bleeding reminder of earlier pressed against his teeth. “I… I could stay and just go to the back when they come in.” Though it possibly would only be a matter of time till they would corner him...

“ _Morris my grandson, the city will take you from us. It will take you in a way I simply can not allow to happen._ ” His grandmother gently rubbed his knuckles as she spoke. She reached up to wipe something from his cheek and it was only then that he realized he was crying. 

“I… I have to leave don’t I. You have to send me away. I can’t stay…” Morris felt a weight settle further in his chest, dragging down on his heart. He didn’t want to leave again. “I only just came home…”

“ _I will not send you further than I can go, my grandson._ ” Her grip was as firm as her voice. “ _I know exactly who you can go to. Go and rest. I shall make the arrangements._ ”

Morris’ legs were stiff as he got up and headed to his room. He stopped at the door and turned back to face his grandmother. “Can I at least know where you think I should go?”

She nodded. “ _With an old friend. Now rest. I shall tell you when you get up._ ” She picked up the phone as he gently closed his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly this was shorter than I thought it was but hey that just means we get closer to that next part
> 
> Comments and such are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I do have more written and I will try my best to update regularly.
> 
> And don't worry, eventually, we'll get back to Pelican town.


End file.
